


Begin Again

by OnlyFoxMulder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s11e09 Nothing Lasts Forever, F/M, MSR, POV Dana Scully, Season/Series 11, post ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26695990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyFoxMulder/pseuds/OnlyFoxMulder
Summary: What if Scully told Mulder about her pregnancy before the events of MS4? What if we got to see a perfectly normal and loving pregnancy reveal?
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 24
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. I know I said my fanfiction days were over but my brain wouldn’t stop mulling over the possibilities explored in the following story. Even though my fandom experience was less than stellar, I still love writing my own stories and reading stories written by far more talented writers within the XF community. Thank you to everyone who read my stories and left kind comments. I fully intended to come back and write a story centered around any other season other than S11 but that season still has me in its clutches. I love it so much. Since I’ve posted 18 stories, I’m going to try and write two more.
> 
> I’m still salty over the lack of normal pregnancy reveals in this show, so here’s what I wish we got to see. I spent way too much time researching New York hotels and in the end, I decided to concoct my own. While I believe Mulder would certainly splurge on a high end experience for Scully, I just don’t see them as a Ritz or Four Seasons type. The only thing I wanted to be sure they had was a gorgeous view of Manhattan. Mainly because I’m basic as hell and adore a nighttime cityscape. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

The sanitary layer of paper crinkled beneath her as she settled onto the exam table. It was late and the last of her energy was beginning to wane while she awaited the return of the overworked nurse in her crisp, blue scrubs and tired smile.

After she fell down the trash shoot, Mulder insisted she get checked out. Just to be safe, he said. She used every excuse in the book, every Scully-ism she had in her repertoire to convince him she was okay. A decade's worth of trash helped break her fall and nothing was broken.

In the back of her mind, she knew it was logical but was terrified of the potential implications. Her hand flew to her stomach, a recently developed reflex when she was nervous or needed to center herself. She had someone else to consider now.

Two weeks prior, she was at the end of her rope with the needless exhaustion she’d been experiencing and her inability to eat a decent meal without feeling nauseated afterwards. Pregnancy hadn’t even entered her mind when she made an appointment with her doctor; she figured some type of bug managed to attach itself to her from one of the many other agents around the Hoover.

But after some tests and an ultrasound, she was shocked to find herself fifty-four and pregnant with her second child. It was overwhelming; alone under the bright fluorescent lights, with no warm and safe hand to hold, she watched the tiny human just beginning to take shape. Mulder should’ve been there, she wanted his comfort… his strength.

Despite her longing, she had neglected to tell him for fear of rejection. While they never used adequate birth control, figuring it wasn’t necessary, any lingering questions they had were never addressed. And until recently, their budding romance remained undefined. They were sleeping together but ignoring the giant elephant in the room.

In all honesty, she thought a pregnancy announcement would cloud his judgement and taint their relationship. Was he with her because he loved her? Or was he placating her because a child was involved?

Those were the thoughts that paralyzed her and drove her to keep the secret. The more she dissected her own uncertainty, the more she realized her presumption was ludicrous. Mulder loved her, had told her as much with each passing glance and tender touch of his hand. A familiar sensation welled in her chest. Only an hour ago, he brushed his fingers along the curve of her jaw and implored her to reconsider seeing a doctor before they caught a flight back to DC. The truth was, she knew Mulder was right. His puppy-dog eyes and pleading tone gave her the final nudge.

It was late when they arrived, rapidly pushing towards midnight, and the waiting area was surprisingly chaotic. The small clinic was the only place open at this time a night, other than the nearby hospital. She didn’t want to take up space in an emergency room for a simple fall and a couple scrapes and bruises. The tech here would have to do until she could see her own physician.

Between questions about her medical history, allergies, medications and the reason for her appointment, she would steal a peak at Mulder. To her left, he fidgeted in his seat, the leather of his jacket and vinyl chair creating a chorus of squeaks when he moved. She was used to his nervous energy, frequent visits to the offices of Skinner or Kersh for official reprimand had left her well acquainted with his ticks. The only thing missing was the rhythmic bounce of his leg, followed by her hand steadying his knee in a silent effort to alleviate his stress.

Their sights locked on one another during one of her interludes and she noted the crinkles around his eyes. The same crinkles that deepened when he flashed her a megawatt smile, something she’d begun to see again since foraging this new path. Only this time, they were harsh as a result of the frown marring his handsome features.

Mirroring his earlier gesture, she had roamed his stubbled jaw and told him she was okay. Again. The smile he offered then was fleeting, unconvincing. She couldn’t remember a time when Mulder didn’t have this exact reaction and while it frustrated her sometimes, she ultimately found it endearing.

The intimate moment was broken by the nurse calling her name. For what felt like the hundredth time in recent weeks, she yearned for his steadfast support. It was challenging to maintain the facade, to keep him at arm's length when she was practically living with him again and carrying his child. But they’d been robbed of a proper reunion the first time and a sterile doctor's office far from home, after the conclusion of a case, didn’t strike her as the right time to reveal life-altering news.

She would tell him though. Soon…

Tonight.

A knock on the door startled her from the spell she was under, resulting in a shaky breath. She’d almost forgotten where she was and what conversation would need to unfold. God, she needed a shower and a good night’s rest.

“Dana Scully?” she said upon entering, the paperwork she’d filled out earlier attached to a worn, wooden clipboard. Her free hand stuck out in greeting. “Sorry for the wait, we’re slammed tonight. I’m Dr. Morello.”

The woman’s hand was rough and dry from frequent washes. She knew from experience; the bottles of various lotions lining her countertops told the same story. The shadows beneath her brown eyes were familiar, too.

“I understand you had a fall?”

Had a fall? Three words every aging woman wanted to hear; in this case, a pregnant woman who happened to be grappling with feeling old since her run-in with Evil Judy. The female Poundstone sibling and her harsh assessment cut like a hot knife through her heart. She staunchly believed a woman’s worth wasn’t derived from her ability—or willingness—to reproduce, but having her infertility thrown in her face still stung.

Clearing her throat, she pushed her insecurities to the back burner. “Uh, yes. I was pursuing a suspect and was thrown down an old garbage shoot. Landed on my left side.”

“Any swelling? Pain?” she asked routinely, plugging in her credentials into a laptop perched on a rolling table. It was then where she noticed the name tag adjourning the doctor's white lab coat: Dr. Alessandra Morello.

As she answered the standard series of questions, she noted Alessandra’s appearance: tall, leggy and brunette. If this were 1998, she’d be annoyed by her presence alone. Too many beautiful, busty women in Mulder’s past resembled the one standing before her and back then, she was harboring quite the secret in regards to her partner. 2018’s Dana Scully was able to laugh internally over her childlike jealousy. At the time it seemed neither of them would come to their senses.

“There is one more thing,” she started, almost afraid to finish and set the next series of events in motion. “I’m pregnant.”

Alessandra’s thin eyebrows shot straight up towards her hairline, revealing soon-to-be wrinkles. Her voice hid the surprise she clearly felt but involuntary facial expressions betrayed her impartial demeanor. “How many weeks?”

“Fifteen,” she answered quickly, the steady beat of her heart accelerating. The following came out in a rush. “That’s the only reason why I’m here—to make sure the baby is okay. I’m a doctor, there’s no sign of internal bleeding or broken bones…”

“You’re a Doctor? When I heard suspect, I just assumed-”

Not sure why it was an important detail, she ignored her. “I work for the FBI but I trained as a doctor. I’m a forensic pathologist.”

The other woman seemed intrigued but didn’t pry. “Let’s take a look then, shall we?”

While she readied the equipment, Scully toyed with the idea of texting Mulder. Even if he wasn’t privy to her situation, the connection would ease the growing apprehension she felt, even through the screen of her phone. He was probably still hunched over, wringing his hands or wearing a path into the waiting room floor from his pacing. Either scenario was possible.

Another wave of guilt struck her like a ton of bricks. This child was his, too. If anything happened and she lost the baby before gathering the courage to tell him, she wasn’t sure their relationship could survive such a secret.

Positive, she needed to stay positive. Leaning back against the crinkly paper, she rolled the hem of her shirt over her belly. She knew the routine. The gel was cold, as usual, but it made her jump.

“You’ve had no spotting or pain, is that correct?”

After a firm nod, she waited in fearful silence and clenched her fist into a tight ball. The other rested on her ribs, palm splayed out so she could feel her heart race. Eyes squeezed shut, she focused on breathing, taking a few trembling inhales and exhales. She heard a faint buzzing sound coming from the direction of her bag, almost certainly Mulder wanting an update. He wasn’t very patient, especially when her health was in the balance.

Seconds dragged on for what seemed like hours as she waited for Dr. Morello to find the right angle. She didn’t want to look, partly because she was terrified of what she may find, but she also wanted to share this moment with him. If the image on screen projected a perfectly healthy baby, she wanted to see this new image for this first time with Mulder.

“Good news,” she announced, her tone neutral and professional. “Everything appears to be normal.”

Her eyes popped open then, not yet trusting her ears. “She’s okay? You’re sure?”

The urge to scoff was almost immediate. She was a medical professional; if she didn’t believe what Jennifer was saying, she could easily examine the ultrasound for herself and come to the same conclusion.

“Positive,” she reassured, printing the sonogram and handing it to her. When she reached over and slipped it in her bag without as much as a peak at the image, the other woman gave her a puzzled look as she wiped the gel from her stomach.

How does a person explain her current predicament to a stranger? You had to know the hills climbed, the improbability of a second pregnancy, and the entirely too complex relationship she had with the one person she cared about most in life. Most people didn’t have the back-breaking emotional baggage that weighed on her shoulders each day.

She didn’t owe the doctor any explanation, so she ignored it and fixed her clothes. The blue short sleeved shirt she wore under her suit jacket left her chilly and in need of warmth. In spite of the mild weather, she craved the heat their rental car would provide.

“I’d recommend seeing your primary physician when you get back to Virginia, but other than that, you and your baby appear to be in perfect health.” She tossed the latex gloves she’d been wearing in the garbage bin.

Once pleasantries we’re exchanged, she slung her bag over her shoulder and navigated the maze-like corridors until she saw the large red arrow directing her towards the lobby and waiting area. All commotion seemed to have calmed since she left, leaving only a young couple hunched over paperwork in the corner. The man had paper towels bunched against his forehead and she could see a small trickle of blood forming on his brow.

Suppressing the need to diagnose, her attention turned to Mulder. He stood before the large window, hands deep in the front pockets of his jeans. She watched as he walked in circles, the bright lights of the city twinkling behind him. As cliche as it may sound, there was something incredible about New York after dark. While she loved the quiet and privacy their home provided, parts of her still missed the hustle and bustle of a large city.

Careful not to frighten him, she made her approach. The urge to snake her arms around his middle and squeeze him like her childhood teddy bear was overwhelming. With his heartbeat beneath her palms, his strong and solid back beneath her cheek, she felt comforted and loved.

Close enough to feel the heat he radiated, she reached out to brush his shoulder. “Mulder…”

He spun towards her, words breathed out in a rush. “Scully? How’d it go? Are you okay? I tried to text you, it was taking so long and-what?”

Midway through what would soon become a barrage of questions, she shook her head and chuffed out a laugh. She could always count on him to make her feel better, just by being himself. Numerous visits to the hospital in various states of health had exposed her to the stages of Mulder-Guilt. The scale, beginning with mumbled self depreciation and ending with shouting matches with hospital employees, had evolved with the passage of time.

Tonight he was hovering somewhere between a five or six, complete with pacing and over-protective hovering. She already predicted his behavior for the drive back to the hotel: hand on her knee, flexing every so often, stealing glances in her direction. Her brain would automatically dismiss his possessive behavior as foolish and old-fashioned, but she knew it went much deeper than any superficial display of machismo.

“As I said earlier, I’m okay,” she promised him for the second time. “Only minor scrapes and bruises.”

His chest deflated when he released a long exhale. Seeing the subtle shift in his mood and the small quirk of his lips calmed her frazzled nerves. An arduous conversation was going to take place tonight and now she felt confident in where it would lead her and Mulder.

During the short walk to their rental, her arm magically looped through his. She tried to justify the action by insisting she was only fending off the chill. A swift breeze struck them as soon as they stepped into the night and her suit coat was too thin to provide any shelter.

And as expected, he kept a firm hand to her knee as he maneuvered the SUV through the outskirts of the city. She wasn’t sure what was more distracting: the secret she was maintaining, his warm fingers caressing her or the way he steered the car. There was something incredibly attractive about him when he drove. Much like the man himself, Mulder was calm and assured, yet focused and careful. In fact, he’d caught her staring four times since he first shifted into gear.

Watching the world pass through the window, she jumped when his voice broke the silence. “Back at the clinic, I booked somewhere else for us to stay tonight. After what you’ve been through I figured you could use something nicer than the two-star establishment the Bureau provided.”

“But-”

“No buts, Scully.” He squeezed her knee. “Besides, it’s already done. We’ll go pack our bags and head out. You’re gonna love it. There’s a jacuzzi, complete with a full collection of various bath oils and scrubs.”

“You’re paying out of pocket I presume?” She sat straight in her seat, unwilling to let him waste his own money on an unnecessary expense. “I can’t let you do that, Mulder. It’s only one more night.”

This was what happened when two headstrong and stubborn individuals worked together. Neither of them would bow down easily. “Another thing: The hotel has a two night minimum and since we have tomorrow off…”

So now it was two nights? What would happen if her secret blew up in her face? What if he booked separate rooms and she misread his intentions? It was too much. She was rapidly losing her courage, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Now he looked nervous again. “One room, Scully. A king suite. It’s all they had left with a city view.”

“City view?” she parroted, embarrassed by the high-pitched tone to her voice.

“Mhm, 18th floor with panoramic views of Manhattan. The photos on the website alone were incredible. It’s only 48 hours, Scully. Live a little.”

She saw Mulder grin in the dim light of the car, a passing street lamp illuminating his pearly-white teeth. The man was arrogant when he won, a trait that pissed her off. It usually gave her the incentive to dig in her heels and march back into battle. Any other day.

Then, she thought of something strange. “Mulder… it’s 10 o’clock. Isn’t check-in usually in the afternoon?”

Another smile, followed by a chuckle. “ I may have pulled the FBI card again…”

“Mulder!”

“No harm, no foul. The woman was very helpful and offered up the room without much persuasion.”

Typical. He bewitched the young, probably beautiful, receptionist and scored. Sometimes she wondered why he’d continued to circle back to her when he could have any woman he wanted, one without so many conflicting emotions.

“Charmed another one, huh?” she teased in an attempt to lift her spirits.

He scoffed, his hand leaving the steering wheel for a brief second and swept away her insinuation. “My charm is saved for you and only you, Scully.”

It was the sincerity in the way he spoke those words that took her off guard. Her comment was made in jest, merely poking fun at the myriad of women he’d managed to captivate using only natural charisma and a welcoming smile. Jealousy came easy once deeper feelings began to reveal themselves.

Back at their no-tell motel, they packed in their respective rooms. As usual, she was meticulous, folding her clothes and cleaning her toiletries before stashing them back in her clear plastic bag. She even separated dirty from clean using special organizers for her suitcase. On the other side of the wall was Mulder, undoubtedly crumpling his worn dress shirts into tight balls and shoving them into his duffel.

She hoped to pass on her neatness to their child. The last thing she needed was a second slob to clean after. While she managed to instill a certain level of order in her partner over the years, teaching children was an entirely new hill to climb.

With a shake of her head, she zipped her bag and took one last look around. She’d stayed at some questionable hotels over the past twenty-four years but for a cheap stay, the East End Lodge wasn’t too offensive, albeit a little boring. The walls were freshly painted, no discoloration or chipping; no outdated shag carpet with untold horrors burrowed in its depths; the linens that covered the mattress were fresh and free of stains. Even the bathroom was updated. The only major flaws she could find were the wooden table near the window and a dresser that housed a small television and coffee maker. Both held numerous scratches and dents from years of use.

However, the shower stall didn’t come with a built-in bathtub and she’d been sore and tired for weeks, and her newest bruises added new aches and pains to the list. A steamy bath sounded incredible; it would soften the tension in her muscles and make her news easier to build up one last burst of courage.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Scully told Mulder about her pregnancy before the events of MS4? What if we got to see a perfectly normal and loving pregnancy reveal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this took so long. Work got super busy and I’ve been too tired to even think about writing. 
> 
> I hope you like it!

_She was awoken by a voice, softly humming a tune she didn’t recognize. In her dazed state, she noted the tired ache of her body and the spasm of pain she felt when she tried to turn over._

_Confused, her vision cleared in the dim light of their bedroom. She was in the center of the bed, unusual. She took the left, he took the right. That was their silent agreement, had been since day one. Unless they were cuddling, then she’d happily meet him in the middle._

_When she realized the warm skin of his chest was missing, she eased onto her side and focused on the wooden rocking chair nestled in the corner of the room. It swayed gently, back and forth, propelled by two large bare feet she recognized._

_When did they buy a rocking chair?_

_Eyes traveling upwards, she nearly lost her breath when Mulder’s dark and muscular arm came into view, holding something small—something snuggled in a pale yellow blanket. She wanted to speak, to inch closer to the wonderful image before her but an invisible force was holding her back, as if she were the audience and Mulder was the movie._

_Her suspicion was confirmed when a small pink hand appeared and reached towards him, little fingers flexing in uncoordinated rhythms. He appeased the baby, allowing her to wrap those digits around his index finger. Tears burned behind her eyes as she attempted to get closer. Again,_ something _was holding her back._

_In her struggle, the bed must have creaked because the baby mewled softly and Mulder’s gaze shifted from the infant to the source of the sound._

_His tired eyes sparkled, his lips curling into a proud smile. “Looks like we woke Mommy.”_

“Scully?”

The dream disappeared as quickly as it came, her shocked gasp echoing through the sterile bathroom. Water sloshed over the rim as she sat up straight, hands to her chest to control her breathing. It was so _real._ She could see the vivid image so clear in her mind, part of her still thought it must have been real. 

“Scully, why aren’t you answering me?”

Without her phone or a clock nearby, she had no idea how long she’d been asleep. Judging by her pruned fingers, it had been a while. Since she dozed, the storm cleared and the lack of heavy cloud cover unveiled a sliver of silver high in the sky. 

Mulder was still knocking on the door and before her mouth could catch up with her brain, the door popped open. He sighed when he saw her, obvious relief flooding his limbs. “You fell asleep?”

All she could muster was a firm nod and when his eyes flicked down to her naked breasts. He recovered quickly enough but the heat of his gaze lingered long after he averted his eyes. The shock of awareness it caused was so strong, she nearly lost her balance and slipped as she reached for a towel.

“Your food is gonna get cold,” he said simply, but she detected a hint of longing hidden behind his words. Good to know she still had such an effect on him all these years later.

Her chest now covered, she steadied herself. “I’ll be out in a minute, Mulder.”

Once he retreated, she stepped into the thick memory foam bath mat and unplugged the drain, watching as the water slowly disappeared and listening to the gurgle. One lone candle still burned low and she leaned over to blow it out. Clean-up could wait until tomorrow, and that included her hastily removed clothes that sat in a pile on the floor. She hated to admit that some of Mulder’s messy habits had rubbed off on her. Years spent together in confined spaces, romantically or not, had transformed her from strict, military brat to something a little less rigid.

Her stomach rumbled. Lunch consisted of a bland cereal bar and half a bottle of apple juice from a convenience store. Eating had become tricky and some days she couldn’t handle much more than a bland snack here or there. The overwhelming nausea had abated since this morning and left a deep, unsatisfied hunger. She only hoped the chicken wouldn’t send her rushing for the toilet at four in the morning.

Their baby was already wreaking havoc on her body; from fatigue, to dreadful morning sickness and tenderness, she feared Mulder would begin to take notice. Her response when he caught a glance of her breasts was out of the ordinary. She wasn’t self conscious about her appearance and certainly wasn’t a prude, she welcomed his admiration. 

The only problem was his keen eye, which had been trained to detect the smallest of changes. She was sure he’d observed her larger size and heightened sensitivity. After all, he could work her into a frenzy using only his talented mouth and nimble fingers on her nipples. She was at his mercy when her breasts were the sole focus of his attention and he knew it, using his prowess during each bout of lovemaking. He had to pick up on the frequency of her sighs and moans, how quickly he’d reduce her to a puddle before he even slipped inside her. 

She rummaged through her bag once again in search of comfortable pajamas and fished out an oversized gray cotton T-Shirt. Many moons ago, it belonged to Mulder. Lifting the garment to her nose, she inhaled his scent, somehow lingering in the fabric after countless washes. Her perfumes and body lotions hadn’t overpowered his earthy scent. 

Slipping the shirt over her head, she took out a fresh pair of panties and worn drawstring joggers—her last set of clean clothes. Either they’d be checking out a day early, or she’d be running to the Target they passed on the drive to the hotel. Her money was on the second option.

Damp strands of hair clung to her neck as she freed it from her messy bun and brushed the snarls away. Would their child inherit her natural auburn locks or a mess of unruly dark chocolate hair like her father? Her lips twitched into a traitorous smirk at the sight of a Mini-Mulder with gold-green eyes and brown hair. Up until this moment, she hadn’t given herself permission to imagine a happy and healthy child in their future; up until now, she’d assumed the worst.

She thought about the dream again. It had to be Jackson sending her another vision. His past messages were vague and certainly not as powerful as tonight, but she was sure he was involved. Despite having no evidence to prove her hypothesis, the striking image of Mulder cradling the tiny bundle in his arms was still crystal clear in her mind. Somehow she knew everything was going to be fine and they’d have a healthy baby.

Back in the main room she found him on the bed, blankets turned down, with two pillows piled behind his back. Another one was propped up in his lap, being used as a makeshift table for the half-eaten sandwich he ordered. To her surprise, the television wasn’t flickering in the corner and the telltale drone of a baseball game wasn’t reaching her ears as she inched towards the bed.

Mulder shot her a smile and nodded towards his food. “Sorry I started without you. I heated your soup and ordered you a ginger ale since your stomach has been bothering you.”

Her heart skipped with affection. He was always so generous and thoughtful, especially with those lucky few he considered family. The few short hours she observed his interactions with William had revealed a side of him she’d suspected but had rarely seen in action. Naturally paternal from the moment she placed the newborn in his arms, he was up half the night watching him sleep, touching his soft tufts of copper colored hair, tears trailing down his cheeks when his son responded to his gentle caress.

Even looking at him now, with his sleepy eyes and wrinkled shirt, she could envision their baby snoozing on his chest as the same contented smile she remembered from her vision split his cheeks. He was going to be an incredible father.

“Earth to Scully,” a faraway voice penetrated through her reverie. She blinked away the remaining pieces of her daydream and wavered on her feet. “Everything okay?”

When she regained control over her body, she took two tentative steps towards the bed, locating her soup on her bedside table. Wisps of steam coiled above the hot liquid and her mouth watered more than it had in weeks. Next to the bowl, she spotted the ginger ale in a tall glass with three ice cubes—just the way she liked. 

She hesitated, wanting to ask him to move to the sofa. The idea of crumbs from their food lurking in the sheets didn’t appeal to her. To hell with it. Once again she found herself blaming her decisions on tiredness, but she truly didn’t have the energy to worry about potential messes. Instead, she mirrored his position, slowly stuffing free pillows behind her back and then unfolding a cloth napkin to prevent any spills. 

Mulder observed with an amused grin as she neatly covered her lap. She could see him out of the corner of her eye and knew he was going to comment, probably before he knew himself. The gears were turning in his head and she prepared herself for one of his sardonic asides.

“It’s cute to see you’re still the same old Scully after all these years,” he began, reaching over to twirl her hair and tuck it behind her ear. She shivered as his finger grazed her lobe upon retreat and she prayed he wouldn’t notice. “I may have converted you into a fast food lover but I never managed to tame your compulsive neatness.”

Laughter followed his assumption because she was more like him than he seemed to realize. The cluster of dirty clothing in the bathroom was proof, as was her willingness to enjoy a very late dinner in a freshly cleaned hotel bed. 

Both of them settled into companionable silence as they ate. It didn’t take Mulder very long to finish; he practically inhaled his remaining half a sandwich and gulped down his water. While he went to brush his teeth, she loaded their plates and cutlery back on the room service cart and rolled it into the hallway. A creak from one of the wheels echoed off the walls, the sound had an eerie quality to it in the empty corridor, one that sent her scurrying back into their room. 

She had no time to analyze her nonsensical reaction because when she turned, he returned from his nighttime rituals. Arms over his head, he stretched, his back arching and in turn, exposing his toned midsection. His body wasn’t foreign to her, she’d seen him in various states of undress, but the sight of his muscled stomach sent a spark of arousal through her, goosebumps appearing along her forearm.

“I don't know about you, but I’m wiped,” he said, punctuating his sentence with a dramatic yawn. She immediately missed the strip of skin now covered by his shirt. “We should get some shut-eye.”

The last time he uttered those words, she ended up sharing more than a hotel room with him. If it weren’t for Henrico County and her conversation with Judy, her insecurities wouldn’t have led her to crawl bed with Mulder or resulted in another miraculous pregnancy. Fate had a strange way of bringing them together time and time again. Flawed or not, they were destined for one another.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she patted the spot beside her. “Sure, but could we talk first?”

Another yawn. “Can it wait until morning?”

The exhaustion they both felt almost convinced her to scrap her plan for the evening, but there was no such thing as perfect timing in their lives. “Please, Mulder. It’s important,” she beseeched, using her _Mulder-Be-Serious_ tone to garner his attention. 

It worked. “Oh no... Are you breaking up with me?”

His drowsy smile morphed into a perturbed frown, sullying the lighthearted tone he tried to portray. If the circumstances were different, she would’ve snickered and played into the banter he was trying to cultivate. She averted her eyes towards their feet, hers dangling a foot or so from the floor, while Mulder’s were planted firmly against the hardwood, one leg bouncing in anticipation.

Fear gripped her once again, paralyzing her vocal cords. She rehearsed an entire speech a million times over, planning each syllable with meticulous precision. Why couldn’t she just come out and say it? 

“I meant what I said, Mulder… I don’t want to wallow in the past, or risk losing what we have,” she said, inching closer to his side. He met her in the middle and covered her hand with his own, the one tracing unidentifiable patterns in her thigh. 

Some part of her yearned to launch herself into his arms right there in the church, to absolve him of the myriad of sins he carried and prove she was here to stay. No more running and no more hiding; she had enough of scraping the bottom of the barrel for excuses. As he continued to berate himself for circumstances out of his control, followed by a sweet admission, was the kick in the ass she needed to banish any doubts. 

When she leaned over, her plan was to kiss him and pull him into a hug but _something_ stopped her. They were alone, the church had been empty for a long while—she had no reason to forgo the kiss and whisper in his ear instead. Either way, she achieved her intended outcome and they left hand-in-hand in the rain towards their future together.

“Oh, honey, I know,” he drawled, his voice was low and husky yet strong and reassuring. She loved that about him: his ability to ease any tension with the smallest inflection to his words. “I told you, we can leave all this behind and quit. I’ll always choose you, Scully. Always.”

Ten years ago, she’d question his assertion. Back when he was still ditching her and choosing the files over the life they built. She believed him now and it nudged her closer to the perilous cliff she stood upon. 

“Is that all?”

Her head shook in the negative, tendrils of hair slipping from behind her ears. It was beginning to curl at the ends, a trait she despised as an adult. Mulder had expressed his love for it on more than one occasion, usually while running his fingers through it as it dried, her head tucked beneath his chin. 

“You’re scared,” he observed, incredulous. “You’re not sick, are you? Please tell me your-”

“No, no, no. I’m fine.” His forehead creased and she immediately regretted her phrasing. “Don’t worry, Mulder. I’m not sick, I promise.”

The bed squeaked as he turned slightly, tipping her chin until she was forced to meet his troubled stare. “We’ll start with an easy one: good news or bad news?”

“Good news,” she replied without pause. The subconscious was a funny thing and it appeared to answer her own question. It was good news, the best news. If only her mouth would catch up with her brain. “Remember in Henrico, when I told you I would’ve liked to have another baby?”

“When you crawled into bed with me and waxed poetic about our mysterious future, while alluding to your struggle with finding a man when I was laying right beside you?” he quipped, no trace of malice in his tone. She needed his lame sense of humor and offered him a small smile. “Yes, Scully, I remember. Vividly.”

So did she. It was hard to forget the feel of his strong arms encircling her from behind and the steady beat of his heart against her back. And oh boy was it difficult to forget the way pinned her to the bed, gripping her wrists as he trailed a series of kisses from the neck, down to her sternum and beyond. That mouth of his should come with a warning label. 

Life affirming sex aside, their child was conceived that night. Whether it was the first bout of slow lovemaking or the second more vigorous coupling, she’d never know. Maybe Mulder would have an outlandish opinion once she quit stalling and came out with it already. 

She steeled herself, clearing her throat to mask the growing lump. A spur of the moment decision led her to reverse the position of their hands and bring it to her belly. Guiding him to the right spot, she pressed his palm flat against the swell, holding him in place. Though inconspicuous under layers of clothing, the slight rounding of her lower abdomen should have been obvious to him.

At first, his expression remained the same but she watched as wonder turned to confusion. The lines in his forehead creased along with his eyebrows—a look he often sported when pondering the infinite secrets of the universe. Then she saw a flash of hope in the subtle quirk of his lips.

“Scully?”

“I’m pregnant, Mulder,” she revealed with a controlled smile. She was afraid to allow herself to celebrate too soon. 

She searched his face for any sign of displeasure and found none. However, he furrowed his brows again, looking to where their hands were joined as if it were a puzzle to decipher. With any other revelation, she would have pressed him to acknowledge her, but the stakes were too high. Any additional pressure wouldn’t help either of them.

It startled her when he started shaking his head in disbelief. “But Scully… That’s impossible, it’s not… How?”

Before his brain short circuited, she stopped his sputtering with a mirthful chuckle and used her free hand to cradle his jaw. His beard stubble was scratchy and rough against her fingers, causing a tingling sensation to ricochet up her arms. He’d been shaving less and less lately, allowing his salt and pepper scruff to grow in. If it was possible, the flecks of gray sprinkled throughout the dark brown made him more attractive to her. Age agreed with him, to the point where it made her jealous. 

“I have no idea why and I sure as hell don’t know how,” she whispered, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “But somehow, we made the impossible possible… again.”

Mulder was rarely stunned into silence, even more rare was the cheek splitting grin he allowed to break free. If she blinked she would have missed it because it disappeared in a flash, replaced by bewilderment. She’d only witnessed a smile of this magnitude a handful of times and considering they were nearing twenty-six years together, she was due for another.

“How long have you known?” The question was asked plainly, without a hint of accusation, but she quickly built a wall to secure her heart in the off chance he was angry with her. “When is the baby due? You don’t look very pregnant but then again, I don’t have much experience in the subject…”

“Remember how drained I was feeling about two weeks ago?” He nodded and she continued, “After our trek to Connecticut, I saw a doctor… Now I’m a week shy of four months.”

Eyebrows raised, his mouth popped open and an alarmed gasp escaped his parted lips. “Is the baby okay? Shit, Scully. You fell through a trash shoot today! We need to start being more careful.”

As suspected, he shifted into overprotective mode on a dime. She was familiar with his almost frustrating need to shield her from harm and ward off any potential hazards. Now, with a baby to worry about, she braced herself for the full brunt of his caveman behavior.

“We’re both just fine, Mulder,” she assured him, wiping away stray tears spilling over his cheeks. “Considering my age, the amount of stress we’ve been under, oh and how I’m supposed to be unable to conceive, it's a miracle we’re both healthy.”

The broad, sweet smile was back and brighter than she’d ever seen. It was contagious. “I think I have something you’ll want to see…”

He moved their belongings to the sofa in the far corner of the room and her shoulder bag rested on the rectangular coffee table. She popped the clasp and retrieved the image hidden in the back pocket. Her hand was trembling as she returned to her spot on the bed, closer this time so they could look at the sonogram together. It was just as groundbreaking and special for her as it was for him; she took a peak but hadn’t seen the details. The suspense was unbearable. 

Holding it against her chest, she paused to hold his gaze. “When I first found out, I had to see with my own eyes. It wouldn’t have been real if I didn’t watch. I’m sorry, Mulder. You should have been there… both times. I’m so-”

“You don’t have to apologize. Believe me, I would have done the same thing in your shoes. A strange thought but my sentiment still stands. You’re both okay, that’s all that matters to me.”

Their hands found each other once again, fingers weaving tight. She passed him the picture, observing the tremble of his arm. When he returned to find her heavily pregnant with William, she’d shown him the various stances of development their son had gone through. It was so easy once they cleared the air of any misunderstandings and she was elated to have him back.

To think she’d have him to lean on during each doctor’s visit, watching their child develop into a tiny human being before their eyes. In as little as a month, they would know the gender. She struggled with the decision to learn the sex of her first child without Mulder and she feared he’d be upset with her when and if he returned. 

She made the right call in the end and when she finally gave away her secret, she thought he’d burst with joy. A son was a special thing to a father and he was already planning their first baseball outing as a family. For one brief moment they could pretend a traditional life was within their reach, before it all fell apart.

His sharp inhale brought her back to the present and she watched him scan the sonogram. As a doctor, she knew what he saw before she even followed his eyeline and saw the impossibly tiny hands and feet. She couldn’t bring herself to look just yet, the way his eyes sparkled was too important to miss. 

“It’s hard to believe I thought every shred of evidence of extraterrestrial life that’s crossed our desk was the most extraordinary thing I’d ever seen,” he croaked, his voice gravelly as his thumb roamed the picture. She had no idea why such a minute detail elicited a visceral reaction from her but the way he traced the entire image with such reverence it nearly stole her breath. “Aliens, conspiracies, paranormal entities—none of it compares.”

“Better than the Bermuda Triangle, doppelgängers, time loops, vampires, psychic surgeons, rogue video game characters, witchcraft, mutants or some other creature I’m forgetting?”

With a bark of laughter, he snaked an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple, then the top of her head. “Even better than killer cockroaches and alien autopsies.”

Two memories she would like to forget flickered in her mind's eye, the first of which had Mulder prattling on about his fear of bugs and some woman named Bambi. The instant jealousy she experienced when face-to-face with the tall, dark and mysterious entomologist, was absurd and immature. She still regretted giving her the cold shoulder just because she had caught the attention of her partner. 

And the second memory was his reckless and stupid decision to jump onto a moving train. To think the same man had grown and evolved from making life threatening decisions at the drop of a hat to questioning the potential repercussions. He was by no means reformed and still harbored some self-destructive tendencies when faced with authority. But somewhere between their unfortunate breakup and subsequent reconciliation, he learned to consider the consequences.

“Scully… how are we gonna raise a child? We’re so old,” he sighed, flopping back against the sheets and taking her along for the ride. “We’ve been talking about _retirement_ for Christ’s sake.”

She playfully punched his shoulder and nestled into his side. “Speak for yourself, Mulder. You’re older than me.”

He only groaned and flung his free hand across his eyes in one dramatic motion. Sometimes she wondered if he was an actor in a previous life given his affinity for theatrics. He was motionless for a beat and she watched as his breathing began to catch in his chest, then felt as small tremors started to shake his broad shoulders. 

Out of the two of them, Mulder was the most comfortable with a wide range of emotions. He expressed them, while she preferred to keep them bottled inside until she either exploded or forgot about her hardships. She admired his vulnerability. 

They remained silent for a while, listening to the splatter of rain against the windows, cadence of their combined breaths and the occasional sniffle. It was easier to communicate their thoughts through careful touches rather than spoken words. Most of their important relationship milestones were marked by close physical contact, a touch here or there. She really struck gold whenever a hug was involved. 

“I’ve always thought Lily was a cute name… It’s pretty.” His voice was worn from his earlier tears, but the awe was evident in his tone.

“We won’t know the gender for another month or so, Mulder. It’s a little early to play the name game,” she giggled softly, secretly overjoyed by the instant affection he felt for their child. 

“What about Grace?”

She sighed.

“Molly?”

An eye roll soon followed her sigh. 

“No? How about Caroline?”

“No way.”

“Hmmm… Julia or Julie?”

She pulled back to see his face, catching his impish grin. “Why are you so sure it’s a girl? It could be another boy.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to call them back. William was a sore subject and a wound that never fully healed. She’d been waging an inner battle over her joy and sorrow, wishing their first child was safe at home with his parents. His uncertain future hung like a dark cloud and she was determined to find the silver lining. Her baby deserved it.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he chided softly, fingers combing through her hair in an attempt to soothe. It almost worked. “We’re going to find him, Scully. He’s already made contact and those visions… he knows how you feel about him. Don’t ever doubt that, it’ll only cause you unnecessary pain.”

Connection through _visions_ wasn’t enough; she needed to see him standing before her, hug him like she’d wanted to for more than a decade, without the murky guise of a dream. Guilt threatened to consume the last remaining shred of hope she had left in her and with her pregnancy discovered, she couldn’t afford to lose it. 

“Are you happy?”

She spent the better part of three weeks searching for an answer to the exact question he posed. It wasn’t until she was living with Mulder again where she finally realized she was happy. More than she had been for a very, very long time. The only thing holding her back was the guilt.

“Yes,” she breathed, almost afraid to admit it out loud. “How could I not be happy? I’ve always wanted a family with you.”

“So have I, Scully. Why do you think I had all those names ready to go?” he chuckled, the rumble in her ear easing some of the tension. “Excitement for another baby doesn’t negate the love we have for our son.”

See, she _knew_ that and tried to push past the sense of betrayal. William shared a special connection with her and she was constantly working to repress any positive thoughts of the baby. She prayed he wouldn’t sneak into her mind the moment she let her guard down and sense the new addition. 

However troublesome, each day was easier to handle than the last. Each morning when she woke up beside Mulder, nestled under worn-in sheets with his warm and familiar arms locked around her waist, she had faith in their ability to adjust to the unforeseen. 

Part of her trepidation was rooted in her silence. Going through the beginning stages of her pregnancy alone allowed her thoughts to run in a million different directions without an outlet for them. Now that Mulder was informed, it took away some of the burden and quelled the hollow ache in the pit of her stomach. 

Optimism. She had to take his advice and push past the regret and shame she harbored. “Do you really think it’s a girl?”

“Yes,” he declared in the confident, albeit slightly arrogant, Mulder way she was used to when he was sure of himself. “I know it’s a girl.”

“Oh? And may I ask _how_ you came to this conclusion so fast?” 

She felt him shrug again. “I can’t explain it.”

That was a first. She expected some long-winded, illogical explanation for his assumption. In a way, his simple answer was comforting. They needed simple.

Humoring him, she thought back to some of his name suggestions from before and picked her favorite out of the five choices. “Julia.”

“Hm?” 

“ _If_ you’re right, I think Julia could be a sweet name.”

She smiled then. Julia Mulder had a nice ring to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the absolute worst when it comes to ending stories. I always hit a brick wall and spend days/weeks with only a little to go. I’m sorry the last couple paragraphs suck. I also realized I don’t like the name Lily anymore. It’s cute but meh, I like Julia better. 
> 
> Thank you for the support!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Chapter two will be up sometime soon. I’m a bit busy with work and grad school but I’m going to try to post the last chapter within the next couple weeks.


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